Shared by the Barbarians (3 page)

And of course it must… Jalinda gulped.
It must have something to do with my private part. The place this horrible man calls my quim. Is that why Renda has her bottom up and her face down? Is that huge man doing something to her quim that makes her cry out that way? Is it a punishment? They shaved my quim; they shaved all our quims, and they didn’t tell us why.

She looked at the barbarian faces. Brothers—yes, of course they were brothers: the same chiseled jaw, the same exotically high cheekbones, the same black hair and ice-blue eyes. At least a third larger than the humans of Vion and Sherdon. Their muscles rippled, and Jalinda realized she had begun to have the same awful funny feeling she had had when she saw the other girls whipped in the women’s tower.
Down there. Why down there, between my thighs, where they shaved me?

The brothers’ faces fascinated her: not triplets, but nearly, and somehow also very different from one another in the attitude each seemed to take to the task at hand, pounding the backsides of the three naked girls.

The one on the left seemed amused. Jalinda couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his smiling mouth moved in a remark, every few moments, that must be directed to his brother next to him, and that brother nodded gravely each time. He, however—the barbarian in the middle—said nothing, but gazed intently down at the girl he rode like a young filly from one of the books about the ancient days on planet Earth, seeming to derive some great satisfaction from watching his hips push steadily against her bottom and thereby—as far as Jalinda could tell—make her whimper and moan.

The barbarian on the left, the smiling one, moved his hips very quickly, with a kind of nervous energy that frightened Jalinda. The one in the middle frightened her more, though, with his slower, harder thrusts.

The one on the right, though…

Oh, powers.
She recognized him now. Only the utter confusion of the moment of coming onto the strange scene in the banqueting hall, and the fact that he wore nothing at all, rather than the strange furred sash and leather pants he had worn when he had come to her home on Sherdon 2, had prevented it. She thought now that having seen him this way, the nameless barbarian who had brought her to the general’s headquarters, holding Renda’s hips and with an easy rhythm somewhere between those of his brothers in its pace moving forcefully against her backside, she could never forget him, waking or sleeping, until the end of time. The expression on his face seemed so controlled, so intent, that it made the funny feeling come again just with those blue eyes looking down at Renda’s little bottom.

She wanted him to look up and see her. She didn’t know why she wanted it, but suddenly it became the most important thing in the world that the barbarian raise his eyes and notice that the girl he had captured and passed along had come into the banqueting hall, to a fate of whose nature she had no idea.

He did raise his eyes, then. He did see her. Jalinda gasped as his blue eyes met hers, and narrowed in obvious recognition. For a moment, the rhythm of the thing he did to Renda seemed to break, and a look almost of pain came across that proud, achingly handsome face. Did this barbarian
regret
having brought Jalinda to the Vionians? Why? Why would a barbarian mercenary regret something like that?

No, of course not.
She had imagined the look and the break in the rhythm. The enormous man looked down again at Renda’s back, and then he called loudly, “A magnificent fuck, General Kroban! I thank you! Her cunt is as silky as the fine cloth of your Vionian courtiers’ robes!”

Fuck. Cunt.

Only the span of an eye blink had passed since she had desperately pleaded her ignorance to the majordomo. “Silence,” he hissed. “Or what is already bad for you will become worse, when I report to the general that you are disobedient and disrespectful. Of course, it would be no more than you deserve, you Sherdonian bitch. You all thought you were so high and mighty, didn’t you? You were going to end the terror of the empire, weren’t you? Just wait until the general ends your virginity in a few moments, in front of all these fine men, and even those crude barbarians. At least Sherdonian girls have quims to fuck that feel as pleasing to a warrior’s cock as any in the empire, and mouths and rumps to fill with a man’s strength, just like every other slut on every other planet we’ve conquered.”

Cock. Cunt. Fuck.

“What is a cock?” Jalinda couldn’t help whispering.

At least something in her anxious tone seemed to please the majordomo, for instead of taking his strap from his belt he said, with a sneer and a gesture of his hand, “Look where his excellency the general sits, watching his barbarians, and see. You shall have that cock inside your quim very soon, whether you like it or not. It may not be as big as what these Trestrimar carry in those uncivilized breeches of theirs, but I can assure you that every girl the general has ever fucked has avowed that he knows how to use it.”

Jalinda looked. The general, whom she had seen only once before, as he walked down a line of girls brought by the barbarians and had tapped her on the shoulder with the stick he carried, after looking very briefly into her eyes, sat in a grand throne-like chair. In front of him knelt a naked girl; the general himself had changed his uniform for a robe of the same blood red. The fabric looked very silky, and it made Jalinda think of what the barbarian on the right had said about his girl’s cunt. She blushed furiously, without knowing why.

Then, somehow, she knew why—or she knew more about it than she had known before she saw what rose from the general’s naked lap, what the naked brown-haired girl seemed to have in her mouth, what the general’s hand, casually atop the girl’s head with fingers twined in her hair, forced her mouth to go up and down upon though the girl’s eyes watered and she seemed to struggle greatly to please. The difference between men and women, so long in Jalinda’s mind something that had to do with size and shape, now rearranged itself in her imagination so completely that she felt terribly faint, even as the funny feeling blazed up much more powerfully than she had ever felt it before.

Cock.
What a man had, where a girl had her
quim.
And… her eyes went back to the three barbarians. The one in the middle had… he had taken his cock out of his girl. Out of his girl’s quim.
Oh, no. No. Please.

The barbarians had their cocks in the girls’ quims. Their cunts. They moved the cocks in and out, deep inside, and that was what made the girls cry out that way. Renda moaned because the barbarian who had brought Jalinda to the general was thrusting his enormous hard cock into her most tender place.

The brother in the middle, what was he doing? A servant had brought him a little bottle, and he had dribbled it onto the bottom of his girl, between her little cheeks. He was rubbing it in, it looked like. He was putting his finger…

The girl in the middle cried out. “Please,” she said, her head rearing back to look wildly around the hall. “Please! Not my bottom! Please!”

The general himself answered her. “Don’t be silly, girl,” he called from his seat. “Of course your bottom. Did you think you would be spared a barbarian’s greatest pleasure?”

“But it will hurt so much!” she wailed, her face a mask of woe.

“Of course it will hurt,” the general said. “But this is what your planet earned through not surrendering, isn’t it? As my barbarian fucks your rump, you will understand the importance of submission.”

Behind her, the barbarian’s fingers invaded her bottom over and over.

“Come now,” the general said, still moving his own girl’s head on his lap. “Do you wish for an easy life here on Vion?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered.

“Then you will have to accept big cocks up your little rump. There’s no other way. Be a good girl and learn to please, and you will have a fine life here.”

The girl, her brow furrowed and her lips in a tight line, nodded.

“Now, girl, ask for it. Ask your fine stallion to fill your bottom just as he pleases, and no matter the consequences to your sweet maiden flower.”

“Please…” the girl’s lips said, though Jalinda was too far away to hear. “Please… do it.”

Chapter Four

Pag hated the general more than he had ever thought it possible to hate another being. The Vionians thought the barbarians—even the ones whom, like the Trestrimar, they came to know well as faithful mercenaries and allies if not friends—hostile to everyone in the galaxy, including each other. The only difference, in the general’s eyes, was that those who had recently given money or booty to these wild mercenaries could expect to be spared their violence. The general doubtless thought that men like Pag and his brothers hated everyone who wasn’t of the Trestrimar equally; the Sherdonians just as much as their Vionian employers.

In truth, Pag didn’t hate the men whom the Vionians ordered him to subdue; still less did he hate the ones he had to kill because they resisted bravely to their deaths. He hated men who abused their natural right to dominate women the way the general did. And he hated the general most of all because he had decided to abuse that right with respect to the girl that Pag, even as he deflowered and fucked the luscious cunt of another lovely Sherdonian, displaying his prowess to a hall full of admiring men, could not stop thinking about.

The open subjugatory fucking of captured girls and of wives in need of discipline made an important part of Trestrimarian custom, and having reached the age of twenty-eight Pag had participated several times. He knew how to rouse a girl so that when the time came to possess her fully she would cry out for his huge cock to thrust through her maidenhead, and he knew how to ride her hard so as to show the spectators both his own prowess and the girl’s submission. He could enjoy himself in the cunt for a very long time, hard and eager, before he took the bottom as Hed was now doing to his right, with his own girl, making her cry out to be filled so shamefully full of barbarian cock and to know that her bottom would never feel the same, now that Hed of the Trestrimar had fucked it.

He had been about to make that same transition, to have the pretty, tanned rump of this little brown-haired Sherdonian girl, and then to spill his seed on her face the way the Trestrimarian law said a conquered girl should be shamed, then walked around the assembly so that all could see the barbarian seed upon her cheeks, nose, and chin. Then Jalinda had come in with the majordomo.

Kar said unnecessarily, “Look, Pag. It’s your redhead, isn’t it? Don’t worry; her cunt isn’t any tighter than the one you’re in.”

“Be silent, Kar,” Hed grunted, still looking down at where his cock surged in and out of his girl’s tiny backside. “I wish to enjoy this rump in peace.” He held the blond girl’s hips tight and made her whimper with each inward thrust.

Kar spoke to his own black-haired girl, then, in an imitation of formal Vionian speech. “It’s your bottom’s turn, now, my dear.” Then he called to the servant. “Oil, please, my good man. I have a rump to fuck!”

Pag saw out of the corner of his eye that Hed couldn’t help smiling at their youngest brother’s antics, and that made him glad despite the dismay he felt at the sight of Jalinda being led to the general and strapped down over a punishment horse, turned so that her upraised bottom faced Pag, the secrets of her cunt and bottom-hole fully revealed in the spreading of her knees. It seemed unbearable to him that he would indeed have to watch the man whip and then fuck the girl with whom he had felt that strange, instant connection on Sherdon 2.

“You must come with me, Jalinda,” he had said after learning her name from her father. “All the girls who are of age must come to the imperial headquarters.” Her little town had surrendered without a fight, at least, so Pag wasn’t covered in gore.

“Why?” she had asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You may be chosen to travel to Vion,” Pag said simply, “or taken to the barracks here on Sherdon,” knowing that she could have no idea what happened to girls whose towns were taken by the empire. Her father winced and said, “You must be a good girl, Jalinda. You will have no choice. They say that if a girl proves obedient she can have a fine life. They say you may even get to come back to us one day. It will be difficult, but your master will want you in good health and happy.”

“Master?” she whispered, turning back to Pag.

He watched the emotions flit across the girl’s pretty face, watched her green eyes narrow and her upper lip quiver, and then set.
Spirit
,
he thought.
Enough spirit for a barbarian—for a Trestrimar, even.

For the first time in his ten years of mercenary service, he contemplated going against his employer’s orders. He could take Jalinda, couldn’t he, and leave with Kar and Hed?

But Kar and Hed—especially Hed—would never have come with him. They had no respect for orders, or for the Vionians, but they would be hard-headed about the realities of life as a barbarian mercenary. The Vionians would know, would see them stealing a girl. The Trestrimarian brothers might be unmatched on a battlefield where physical strength counted for all, but in space, departing Sherdon 2, the Vionian warships would find them and destroy them in moments.

He watched as the general stood, his cock still in the mouth of the girl on her knees in front of him, and put his hand on Jalinda’s sweet bottom. He watched as her head reared back, and Pag imagined an expression of distressed, forced pleasure on her face.

He remembered her looking at him, as she had when she first entered, and again Pag’s rhythm inside the other girl’s cunt faltered. In Jalinda’s eyes he had seen pleading that he wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen. He looked down at the perfect bottom against which he pressed his hips so pleasurably at the inward extent of his thrusts. He decided to fuck it, to take his mind off Jalinda, and he called for the oil.

With one finger, then two, he got the bottom ready while the girl moaned, surely knowing from the sounds to her right that her fellows had massive barbarian cocks deep in their own backsides and that her turn had come; she would take Pag as deep as he wished to thrust and be glad he did not whip her before the fucking, to complete the preparation.